Eira
by Heiwako
Summary: Inspired by Skyrim Kink Meme - Rolff has never been an easy person to get along with, but he's gotten worse since he lost his wife.


When Rolff Stone-Fist woke, the first thing he did was check for a hand resting on his chest as he did every time.

And as with every waking moment, he sighed when he realized that the person who owned the hand he was looking for had left him six months ago. "Eira," he thought as he climbed out of his warm bed for the cold room. "I miss you so much, my dear Eira."

The shadows were long in his small house as he puttered around looking for a bottle of ale or mead. He had been living in Candlehearth Inn until his older brother, Galmar, complained that it made Ulfric Stormcloak look bad that his housecarl's only living family lived in an inn. Galmar had gotten him this place soon after. It wasn't much, not like the nice house he and Eira had shared, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

Finally, he found a half-empty bottle of Honningbrew mead and sat down to drink it while he waited for nightfall. Rolff rarely bothered being up during the day any more. He preferred wandering around the Gray Quarter at night, letting gray-skins know what he thought of them. Most nights Angrenor joined him. They would meet at Rolff's house, drink a bit, and then go into the ghetto part of Windhelm looking for elves stupid enough to be out roaming at night.

He never told Angrenor—he was too ashamed—but part of him hoped they would find the one who had taken his Eira away from him. Then it wouldn't be simple threats like he did with those other gray skins or the rare beating for the particularly mouthy ones. No, then he would gut the bastard and watch him beg as he bled on the stones of the Gray Quarter. The elf would pay for taking his wife from him; Rolff would make sure of it.

By the time the sun had set, Rolff decided that Angrenor wasn't coming tonight. Maybe the beggar was sleeping off his hangover at the Candlehearth or maybe he was trying to earn some coins with his story about how he took a sword to the chest. It didn't matter. Rolff was in a mood to be alone tonight as he stalked the alleys of the Gray Quarter. At least until he found a dirty gray skin.

* * *

Luaffyn hummed quietly to herself as she walked towards the Candlehearth Inn. She had decided she wanted some fresh fish and had visited her friend Suvaris down at the docks in hopes of a discount. The harpy had gouged her terribly, but Luaffyn liked to think it wasn't as much as she hiked the prices for the lizard-kin.

She quickened her step as the last rays of day faded over the mountain. The Butcher was still at large and she had no intentions of being his next victim. Four women had been killed so far and his most recent victim had been Susanna the Wicked.

Most people had just shaken their heads at the tavern wench's death. She had had a reputation for being promiscuous and too friendly to Dunmer, which made her somewhat missed by her male customers and honestly mourned by the citizens of the Gray Quarter. Susanna had been a true ally to the Dark Elves and they would honor her memory.

The bard paused when she heard shouting and the sick thud of fists ahead of her in the dark end of an alley way. Had the Butcher struck again? She wanted to flee, but her feet were stuck to the ground, frozen harder than grass to ice during the winter.

She could make out two silhouettes, shadows dancing on the walls of the alley as they fought. One swung wildly, missing more often than not, while the other twirled back out of reach before darting in to deliver quick jabs. Finally, the awkward shadow fell with a muffled curse.

Luaffyn squeaked when she saw the winner was walking towards her. Oh gods, why had she waited so late in the day to go down to the docks? She was such a fool! Her heart was crammed in her throat, making screaming for the guards impossible. Not that any of those Stormcloaks bothered to patrol the Gray Quarter.

It was now too late. The shadow was here and it was…Aval Atheron? The man who sold meat in the marketplace?

"Luaffyn, is that you?" he asked. She could make out the beginning of a bruise on his cheek. "What are you doing out here at night?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she stammered.

"I'm going to pick Suvaris up," he explained. "She asked me to escort her because of the Butcher."

"Oh," Luaffyn murmured. That was a good idea. She wished Suvaris had thought to mention it to her. "Who were you fighting?"

"That idiot Rolff," Aval scoffed. "He's not so tough when he doesn't have his toady to back him up. Odds are a lot fairer when you're not outnumbered two to one or not a woman being cowed by those drunken assholes."

"You knocked him out and just left him there?" Luaffyn asked, aghast. "What if something were to happen to him while he's unconscious?"

"Then nothing of value was lost," Aval shrugged. "Look, I have to go. If you want, you can walk with me while I get Suvaris?"

"I think I'll be okay," Luaffyn faked disinterest as she shrugged. "I'm almost back to the Candlehearth. The extra walk isn't worth it."

"It's your life," Aval said before he waved farewell and continued to the docks.

Instead of going to the Candlehearth, Luaffyn scurried to the fallen figure of Rolff Stone-Fist. The Nord was completely knocked out. She tried to wake him, but he only flopped bonelessly in her grasp. She tried to lift him and found she could drag him slowly on the ground, but only if she used both hands. The bard sighed as she mournfully looked at her fresh fish. "Good bye tasty meal," she said, "I never knew you." She placed it on the ground, grabbed up Rolff's shoulders, and started the slow trek back to the Candlehearth.

* * *

When Rolff Stone-Fist woke, the first thing he did was check for a hand resting on his chest as he did every time.

And as always, she wasn't there. Except this time, a gentle hand pushed back his hair and pressed a cool cloth on his forehead. "Eira," he whispered, unable to believe she was back somehow. Despite how impossible it was, she was back!

"No, it's Luaffyn."

"Who?" Rolff's brow wrinkled in thought. The voice seemed vaguely familiar but he didn't know the name. It didn't sound Nordic.

"I'm the bard at the inn," she explained. It didn't surprise her Rolff didn't recognize her, but she knew him. He was notorious for hassling Dunmers. More than one elf had stumbled into the New Gnosis Corner sporting a black eye or busted lip thanks to him.

"Where am I? Are you planning on torturing me?" Rolff barked as he looked around the room to discover they were in one of the Candlehearth rentals.

"You were knocked out and left for the skeevers," Luaffyn said stiffly. Why had she thought he would be the slightest bit grateful?

"Why would you help me?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Because it was the right thing to do," she answered simply. "Why do you feel a need to stalk the Gray Quarter every night hurting the Dark Elves?"

"Because you steal jobs from hardworking Nords!" he exclaimed. Rolff paused, his hand on his head where it was aching.

"Here, let me give you something for that," Luaffyn offered, reaching for her alchemy pouch.

"I don't want anything from any elf!"

"I'm not your enemy," she snapped.

"You're not my friend either and that equals to the same thing," Rolff retorted.

"What if I were to help you?" Luaffyn offered, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. "I know about Eira."

"How would you know about her?" Rolff growled.

"Because you come to the inn almost every night to drink before you stalk off to the Gray Quarter and you're not exactly quiet," Luaffyn explained. "Besides as a bard I'm trained to listen and learn."

"I don't need help from any gray skin," he insisted.

"Maybe, but you do need help from a woman," Luaffyn said, "if you want bait for the Butcher. He's never showed up around any men, only lone females. And could you really ask any Nord to stand helplessly while you wait for him to show?"

* * *

"This is the place?" Luaffyn asked. They were at the edge of the Gray Quarter near where Rolff and Aval had fought earlier.

He nodded; unable to speak as his eyes lingered over the spot they had found Eira's body. She had been brutally mutilated, flesh cut from various parts of her body and her face almost destroyed beyond recognition. Almost. Worst of all, her skirt had been hiked over her hips and her smalls never discovered.

"You know just because she was found here doesn't mean it was a Dunmer who did it," Luaffyn suggested.

"Of course it was one of you gray skins!" Rolff snapped. Friga Shatter-Shield's father hired Argonians and she had been the first victim. Clearly it was because of the Dunmer and Argonian feud. Eira had been in the Gray Quarter, probably coming back from the docks. Susanna was known for fraternizing with them. It all made sense. Some Dunmer had killed and raped his wife, and Rolff Stone-Fist meant to have revenge!

The bard merely shrugged and pointed to a corner. "I guess you can hide over there. I'll be pacing over here. Just…just be sure to stop him if he does attack me, okay? I'm sort of attached to being alive."

Rolff settled into his hiding place as Luaffyn started her patrol. His eyes were drawn again and again to the spot where Eira had died. There was no mark now, no blood or memorial to remember this spot, but it was burned in mind. He saw her accusing stare. "Why hadn't you been here to protect me?" those dead eyes screamed. "Why were you not there?"

In the dark, it was easy to ignore Luaffyn's darker skin and pointed ears especially when she was turned away. Her hair was the same shade of red Eira's had been and after a while it was all too easy for Rolff to imagine it was his wife out there in danger instead of some filthy elf. Being only able to see the curve of her skirt and the fall of her hair, Luaffyn was just a woman.

The bard almost screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around expecting to see the Butcher had finally come to kill her. Instead it was Rolff Stone-Fist who looked exhausted instead of angry for a change. "It's not going to work," he grunted as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "so let's go home. I'll escort you back."

"Are you sure?" she asked, secretly relieved. She wasn't completely sure, but she thought they had only been out there for an hour or two.

"Yeah," Rolff agreed, his eyes downcast as he scruff his shoes on the street. "Now let's go."

They walked back in silence to the Candlehearth Inn. Luaffyn thought to try to make conversation a few times, but Rolff's pensive look stilled her tongue. When they were in safe sight of the inn, he turned to her. "I'll leave you here."

"Do you want to try again tomorrow?"

"No, no sense risking no woman," Rolff grunted. "You may be an elf, but you're still a woman. I'll find the bastard on my own."

Luaffyn smiled as she leaned close and touched Rolff's hand. "Thank you," she whispered.

Rolff jerked away as if her touch had burned him. It had felt too much like she had been about to kiss him. "Don't need any thanks from any gray skin either!" he snapped as he turned around and ran home.

He spent the rest of the night drinking and thinking of red hair that fell like flame down a woman's shoulders. Sometimes he worried that he wasn't thinking of Eira at all. Finally, during the pre-dawn hours of the morning, he crawled into bed drunk and lonely. Most of all he dreaded the moment when he woke and checked for the hand resting on his chest that would never again be there.

* * *

A/N: Inspired by a combination of a SKM prompt and a tragic love contest on Deviant Art.

Here's the prompt: I have a challenging prompt.

The challenge is to think of a fairly unattractive or unlikeable Skyrim character. Done that? THEN, write them in a situation with your DB, in such a way as to make them kinky/attractive. Confuse your readers, the LI isn't attractive at all (e.g not Brynjolf, not Farkas, not Vilkas, not Ulfric) but the story is totally hot.

Bonuses for: spanking, and general sexual confusion from the DB. Bonus for the relationship being illicit/secret/really unusual. Bonus points if it's written believably.

Srsly authors. I want to be totally confused and possibly uncomfortable by the end of it.

Dub-con would be okay, but definitely not non-con. The DB has to find themselves surprisingly willing.

Not sure if I'll continue with any smut, I like the friendship right now, but we'll see.


End file.
